


Type/Lost

by AllyApplePie



Category: Final Fantasy Type-0
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Arecia is a dick, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love Triangles, Multi, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovered Memories, but Gala is an even bigger dick, child soldiers are a bad idea, everyone is a little fucked up, kind of, making it up as I go, relationships subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-20 08:16:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllyApplePie/pseuds/AllyApplePie
Summary: They died, but they didn't. They died, but then they woke up.On the other side, where there are no wars or countries or crystals tearing Orience apart, the original 12 of Class Zero find themselves in the world their homeland should have been. In this world, the original 12 meet people who claim to know them, from 600,104,971 past lives they have been forced to live.As they barely get their bearings, they are presented with a chilling fact; the spiral still turns, with Machina, Rem, and countless other souls trapped in its twisted turns. Once more, they must venture into the mouth of death and end the Etro Experiment once and for all. But challenging the Gods' will is easier said than done.





	1. Of Death and Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are. My first work on AO3. Hello one and all.
> 
> This is basically a 'what if' fic pertaining to my personal questions on Type-0's story. Also this game just needs more fic amiright? Updates will be sporadic but I am truly invested in this concept, so they will come eventually! Most of the chapters will be very short, and disjointed to begin with as we jump from character to character, but I promise all will soon become clear! For now, enjoy.

He remembered dying. Remembered the pain, the numbness, the sea of darkness that followed. The sad smiles of his classmates as they all passed on.

They did pass, but not away. Rather, they passed from one reality into another. And now he was told, this reality was the true one and the reality he called Orience, was nothing but an experiment.

King wasn’t sure how much of this he believed. Despite himself, however, he couldn’t discount it completely. He turned away from the window and looked instead at the source of this new information. He probably would not have believed her were it not for his brain insisting that he _knew_ those indigo curls, and the gentle frown on her face as she stared at the TV. If she was aware of his staring it didn’t bother her, instead she picked up the remote, turned the TV off, and reached for her jacket.

“We should leave while most in the motel are still asleep, there is a country road we can follow to the next town.” She slung her bag over her shoulder. She was about to reach for his jacket when she saw him shift in the corner of her eye.

“Jaelyn.”

At her name, Jaelyn turned. King was giving her an intense, appraising look, as if he was trying to figure something out. She did not respond, only stared and waited for him to speak further. It only took a moment for King to break the silence with a groan, and he ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to find the right words.

“How much of your memories do you have?” He asked at last, and Jaelyn raised an eyebrow as she passed him his jacket. It wasn’t the question she expected.

“The human brain is incapable of remembering the millions of spirals I’ve witnessed. And though I managed to keep records outside the accelerated flow of your Orience’s time I found that when watching from the outside, it’s far more difficult to keep track. As for the ones I was part of, I have clear memories of around 30 versions of Orience.” She fastened her jacket, and released a deep sigh. “Not every detail of course, and to know there are millions of other spirals I can’t remember is… Disturbing.”

By this point King was also ready to go, and had to step in front of her to stop her from staring into space and focus on him again. He looked down at her with narrow, but curious eyes.

“What about my memories?”

Jaelyn pursed her lips. “They will return with time. It has probably already begun.”

She was right there. Or rather, that was the best explanation he’d heard for the dreams he’d been having since he came to in this new world. Scenes from his time at Akademeia, only they weren’t. Everything looked the same, but he knew those things hadn’t happened. At least, not in the final cycle. They could have just been dreams, but it felt like within his dream, he knew exactly what would come next. Like he’d seen it all before.

Suddenly the deja vu Cater would keep talking about felt a lot more sinister.

“Let’s get moving.” He said, not commenting on his constant pausing to think. Jaelyn just nodded, and opened the door of the motel room. The others were out there, she said, and with her help King would find them.


	2. Of Jaelyn and Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit longer! Here is where we start dumping the plot...

It happened far too fast. King felt the relief of seeing mother again, confusion at her cryptic words. Then, he heard the whistling noise, and saw the bolt that hit her right between the eyes.

Rage overtook him then, boiling under his skin. He pulled out his revolvers and swivelled round to whoever dared murder his mother, to see Jaelyn stood there holding her crossbow, not even looking at him, simply staring at the fallen body behind him with no small amount of venom.   
  
And then, mother laughed.   
  
The fire in King’s veins suddenly went cold. He turned around to see Arecia Al-Rashia sitting up from where she fell, having just pulled the bolt from her forehead. There wasn’t a scratch on her head, but King knew what he had just witnessed. A smile on her face, Arecia stood up while rolling the bolt between her fingers.

“Right in the middle of the head, Miss Alberg. Very impressive.” She looked up at Jaelyn with narrow eyes that didn’t match her smile. “How many times is that?”

Arecia threw the bolt straight at the girl, and King watched as Jaelyn caught it right before it reached her own face.

“199, as you well know.” There was a rage in Jaelyn’s words, a lack of calm King had never heard before. He was dumbstruck beyond all meaning, he was so utterly confused he didn’t know what to question first. Jaelyn just killed, _literally killed_ his mother in front of his eyes, and she just sat right back up.

King was desensitised to death. He had been trained in combat from childhood, fought in war, and killed countless people. Seen people be killed. This, however, was too much, and he tore the two women's attention away from each other when his confusion manifested in a deep, growling scream.

“What the fuck!?”

  
Jaelyn took a step back, even Arecia blinked. In all the cycles, no matter the differences, King always exhibited an air of calm. It was then Jaelyn hung her head. Seeing Arecia had filled her with such anger she had not considered King’s reaction. As for Arecia, she wandered over to him and gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Now now King, yelling won’t get you anywhere.” She sighed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I came to bring you some direction.”

“I fear what kind of direction you bring, Witch.” Jaelyn muttered as she flicked through her bolts, and King returned to reality at the venom in that remark and pushed past Arecia, marching towards her.

“What is wrong with you, you… You just shot her!”

Jaelyn avoided eye contact as she spoke. “That which is not human cannot be killed by human means.”

Once again, King had no response. How would anyone respond to that? He turned to Arecia, desperate for some kind of explanation at this point, and she simply sighed and shook her head.

“Don’t mind Jaelyn’s rage.” She said in that same calm tone. “It is somewhat justified.”

“ _Somewhat?_ ” The disgust in Jaelyn’s tone became thicker. “You’ve killed us millions more times than I’ve killed you, fal’Cie!”

Silence. Arecia did not even move, and King’s crimson eyes darted between them. The tension between them all was thick, and he was starting to figure out this visceral relationship was probably much older than he could fathom.

Finally, he found his voice once again, and to his annoyance it was quiet with fear. “What’s a fal’Cie?” He turned to the woman he thought of as mother. “Is that like a l’Cie?”

“Not quite, my dear.” Arecia paced between them as she spoke. “While l’Cie were once human. We fal’Cie were created as we are.”

“They are direct servants of the gods.” Jaelyn continued. “Just one step below them in power. I said your Orience was an experiment. A divine experiment, to be exact, with Arecia as its head researcher.”

Arecia shook her head. “I was not alone in that. Or do you not remember Gala?”

The colour drained from Jaelyn’s face. The cold vengeful expression she’d been wearing fell and left behind was abject terror. She spoke no words, only nodded her head.

“As I thought. That is also why I am here.” Arecia took a few long strides towards her and looked down at her from over her glasses. “Orience still turns, and Gala has control over the spiral now.”

  
Jaelyn shook her head and her eyes darted across the ground, she stumbled over her words trying to find something to say but fear held her tongue hostage, so King continued to press for answers.

“Who is Gala?”

“Gala is another fal’Cie, one I have been competing with during the experiments.”

This made King grimace, but then the expression fell again as he looked at his so-called mother. “You make it sound like a competition.”

“It was, for we served different gods.” Arecia looked back at Jaelyn, who was staring off at nothing. “Gala serves Lindzei, while I served Pulse.”

Arecia was still waiting for another reaction from Jaelyn, but it looked as if the girl was trapped in her own thoughts. wide-eyed and silent. Then, her head snapped up and she took another step towards Arecia.

“Machina and Rem, and millions of people, they’re still there. And with Gala controlling the spiral they will suffer genocide after genocide as he tries to force Etro’s Gate open.” The rage began to return and she grabbed the taller woman by her scarf. “What have you done _now_ Arecia?”

There was no fear in Arecia’s eyes. King had always admired his mother’s fearlessness, but now? Being a god meant death was a non-issue. The fal’Cie did not move Jaelyn’s hands.

“I chose my children over Etro’s Gate. When they died, they were instead pulled out of the spiral.”

It seemed like this caught Jaelyn off-guard. Her grip loosened and she stepped back, narrowing her eyes. “After sending them to their deaths over 600 million times, what made you change your mind now?”

“Tiz and Joker.” Arecia replied, turning away from them. “I have released them from my service, they are here as well. I listened to my children, heard the genuineness of their love… And how happy they were with their choice.”

“We were prepared to die.” King spoke once again, reminding the two he was still stood there. “We asked not to be revived.”

“I know you did. And I did not revive you, I merely set your souls free.” The proud smile that always rested on the woman’s face returned and she stepped away from them. “With all of you on this side, you can now work on dismantling the Etro Experiment, and setting the rest of your friends free.”

In a blur of indigo, Jaelyn suddenly launched herself at Arecia, punching her square in the jaw before she could turn away. She barely moved from it, but that just meant Jaelyn didn’t have to reach to wrap her hands around her throat.

“You think that’s enough?” She hissed. “You think that a sudden change of heart will absolve your endless sins, that you suddenly understand the intricacies of human emotions just because you actually _bothered_ to listen to them after sending them to their deaths millions and millions of times!?”

Even with what he now knew, King immediately stepped forward to pry her off, but to his surprise Arecia held up her arm to stop him and push him back. With a lot more strength than he remembered her possessing as well. Instead he was forced to watch as Jaelyn choked her, but the woman simply smiled up at her as she fell to her knees.

“It matters not what punishment you think I need, what judgement you feel needs to be exacted upon me.” She croaked. “All that matters is you are here, you are free… You can stop Gala.”

When Arecia fell limp, Jaelyn let her go. She fell to the floor, but she stopped her fall with her arms and gasped for breath, and then she laughed again.

“Good to know you’re as dangerous as ever, Miss Alberg. I trust you will take care of my children in my absence?”

Jaelyn took a step back, and didn’t reply to the question, instead she folded her arms and glared daggers at Arecia.

“200.”

Arecia smirked. “Only more than 600 million to go.”

And then, in a burst of light, ‘mother’ disappeared.


	3. Of Remembrance and Roadsides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally two parts, but since they are rather short on their own and cover similar things, I've decided to just put them together. Enjoy!

As she sat in the diner, Queen contemplated her situation. And as she did so she spun the menu around on the table, not really thinking about the action. She just wanted to keep her hands busy. Then movement made her look up, to see Deuce placing a milkshake in front of her.

“The man behind the counter said we should keep following the road west to make it to the next town.” She sat down with her own milkshake. “He even said he had a spare map he wouldn't mind giving to us.”  
“Thank goodness.” Finally Queen’s shoulders relaxed, for possibly the first time since she'd reawakened. She took a generous sip from her straw. “Wandering aimlessly along roads will quickly become dangerous.”  
“I agree, but Queen, what are we even supposed to _do_?”

It was a simple question. Quite possibly the simplest question in the world. And yet Queen had no answer. For as long as she could remember, Class Zero had been given direction by others, never choosing their own path up until the very last moment, and in the end they chose to die for the sake of Orience.  
To die. They died, all of them. And here she was, with Deuce, drinking a milkshake in a diner in the middle of nowhere, in a place that _absolutely was not_ Orience as they knew it.

“Are you still having those dreams?” Deuce asked. “The same ones I’ve been having?"  
“You too, then…” She adjusted her glasses and sighed. “Scenes that never happened, but are so familiar. And those people, do you know who those people are?”  
Deuce shook her head. “No, I don’t recognise them. But I feel like I _know_ them.”  
They had already discussed the possibility that the people they were seeing had died, and so the crystal prevented them from remembering them. That did not, however, explain why they were remembering the same things, at the same time. Was the crystal’s power fading? Did the crystals even exist here?  
  
The door to the diner swung open, alerting the girls as well as the man behind the counter. They tried not to draw attention to themselves, but they listened as a male voice spoke.   
“Hey, can you help me? I’m looking for some people.”   
The older man pondered as he wiped down the counter. “Afraid I haven’t seen too many people round aside from you, and the two young ladies over there.”   
When they were mentioned, Deuce and Queen turned away again without getting a good look at the new arrival. That. however, was about to change as boot steps made their way towards them.   
“Queen! Deuce, thank hell, you’re alright!”   
The girls looked up to find a fairly tall young man in front of their table, his light brown eyes darted between them as he broke out in a large grin of relief, brushing back strands of indigo hair as he spoke.   
“I am so glad you’re here, you’re the first ones I’ve found since I started looking and I was-”   
Whether it was their startled expressions or his own belated realisation that made him stop, they weren’t sure, but he cut himself off with a deep sigh.   
“I’m sorry, I jumped the gun a bit there.” He looked at them with calmer eyes this time. “You don’t remember me, do you?”   
“I recognise you.” Deuce spoke before Queen could. “I know your face, I’m sure of it. But I can’t remember _who_ you are.”   
Queen folded her arms and appraised the newcomer. He was definitely one of the people from her dreams, if she just pictured him wearing a Tribune uniform. He was older than them, she was sure of that. She couldn’t help but be suspicious, and yet when he caught her scrutinising stare he chuckled.   
“I know that face, Queen, I can get why you wouldn’t trust me.” He looked away from them for a moment with a coy, almost embarrassed smile. “You don’t remember me, after all, but I remember you. You’re my friends, and I just want to help.”   
“Is that why you were looking for us?” It was an obvious question but she wanted to keep him talking, and when he nodded she continued to press. “Then can you please tell us what’s happened?”  
The man sighed again, pulled a seat from the counter behind him, and sat down at the end of the table.   
“My name is Shannon, Shannon Alberg.” He took a deep breath. “I’m here to tell you what you’ve been set free from.”  


* * *

 

  
Ace was freezing cold. He pulled his jacket closer to his body in a vague attempt to retain some warmth, but said jacket was already soaked through. The road was quiet, but he wasn't sure if that was good or bad at this point. In fact, the road was the only thing that hinted there might actually be _people_ nearby.  
  
A crack of thunder in the near distance made him jump. Even though the storm had been going on for a while, and he certainly wasn’t scared of lightning, his current predicament was eating at his nerves. He was alone, in a place he didn’t recognise, with nothing but his cards and a rather pitiful amount of gil he’d just happened to have in his pocket when he died.   
When he _died_ .   
If he was dead, this would constitute a form of hell.   
Another thundercrack. He wiped his damp, freezing face, but it was futile effort. He was about to give up, he felt like he was about to collapse, when the sound of an engine behind him ripped him back to reality. Engines were always a sound of terror for cadets in the field. It meant Magitek, which meant Milites, who were leaps ahead of Rubrum in raw technology. When he turned around and squinted through the rain, however, he saw a different kind of vehicle slowing down as it approached him, the lights of the car making him shield his eyes for a moment.   
Wait, where did the word car come from?   
  
_"What are you doing?”_   
_“Hotwiring the car.”_   
_Ace scrunched up his eyebrows and shook his head, perhaps hoping that would make him understand the jumble of words she just said._   
_“You know how to work one of these things?” He asked, leaning over her shoulder, only to get flicked in the face by indigo curls as a response._   
_“Militesi parents, remember? This kind of knowledge is helpful in the field.”_   
_He nodded and sat back into the seat. “Alright, so long as you know what you’re doing.”_   
_“I promise, we’ll be out of enemy territory in no time.” She looked back at him and flashed him a rare smile. “I’ve read about how to drive one of these things dozens of time.”_   
_That was when the engine rumbled to life, sending the two on their way. It was only when they started driving down the street, however, that her exact choice of words sank in for him._   
_“Wait, read about!?”_   
  
Ace blinked and his hand moved to press against his forehead, which suddenly seemed to throb as unfamiliar scenes flashed in his mind. It was so distracting it took him a moment for him to realise he was being addressed.   
“Hey, kid! Something tells me you need a lift?”   
Accepting car rides from random strangers on the road was probably not a good habit to pick up. But in that moment, anything was preferable to being alone in the rain.


	4. Of Late Nights and City lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make the groups that are scattered about interesting. Here is another pair for you!

“This is  _ not _ Iscah!”

“Well it is.” Eight paused as he spotted a map of the town centre. “That’s what the map said. And all the road signs.”

“But it looks nothing like how I remember it!” Jack flailed his hands in distress as he talked, drawing glances and stares from some passers-by, and Eight released a deep sigh.

“Stop freaking out, you’re making a scene.” He took a step back from the map and pointed a thumb down one of the streets. “Let’s just find a place to stay the night.”

Jack’s shoulders sank in defeat, but nonetheless he followed Eight as he walked down the Main Street of Iscah. There were plenty of people about, with a lot of them cleaning up shop fronts and putting up decorations. When Eight finally stopped in front of the hotel he'd found on the map, it was clear everyone was preparing for something.

It was perhaps somewhat comical to see Eight leading Jack around like a lost puppy, considering how tall the latter was compared to him, but he was happy to just skulk behind and not talk. Jack was not used to feeling this distressed. The woman behind the counter looked up when she heard them approach, with a bright smile.

“Good evening! Welcome to the Silver View, how can I help you?” She grinned, glancing over both of them. “All stays for this week are half-price as part of the Afterdark Festival!”

“So  _ that’s _ what all the decorations are for.” This made Jack perk up, and he gave Eight a firm pat on the shoulder. “Hey hey, sounds like fun.”

“I guess…” He tapped his knuckle against his chin while his eyes looked up to the receptionist. “How much for two nights, for the both of us?”

“Hmmm a double room for two nights with the Afterdark discount will add up to… 300 gil.”

“Hey we can afford that!” Jack said with far too much elation, causing Eight to groan a little and just nod as Jack pulled out his wallet, resting his face in his hand.

“Thank you very much! You’re in room 22, enjoy your stay! And do come to me if you have any inquiries.” She chirped as she handed Jack the key to their room, and with a grin and a wave he pushed Eight towards the stairs, where he began to speak in a quieter tone.

“A party in a big town like this draws crowds, right? Hanging out for a few days means we might find the others.” He looked down at them both and tugged on his mantle with a sigh. “Might be an idea to get some new clothes, too. Not seen a single uniform out here yet.”

“You have a point…” Eight took the key off Jack as they reached the top of the stairs and onto their corridor, walking up to the door. Immediately upon opening it, Jack walked in and planked on the nearest bed.

“Fresh bedding!” Was what Eight  _ assumed _ his companion said amidst the muffling pillows, he simply took off his boots and perched himself on the far bed, staring out of the window. The sun was setting, and on the street below townsfolk were bustling with decorations and setting up festival stalls, lanterns were being hung while there was still natural light to work from. Everyone looked happy, filled with excitement for the next few days of celebration. For Eight, it was a wild thing to see so many people in one place, smiling and laughing and enjoying life for enjoyments sake. In the Iscah he and Jack remembered, Milites had destroyed much of it, it took months to rebuild. The people were hopeful when they were liberated, but there was also a solemness to them, very far from the waves of glee rolling down the streets below the window.

Perhaps that was the sticking point. In this world, Orience was a united country, as the map they found showed them. There was no Milites, no Dominion, no colliding forces to create war. Here the only threats were monster outbreaks and the occasionally crazy weather. This world without war was astounding, and one that Eight assumed could never exist.

That was the part that hit him the hardest. He had never  _ seen _ a world without war, he had always  _ expected _ war. Sure, he fought every day to end war and the suffering it brought, but what if they had succeeded? What would they have done, if nothing had gone wrong and Class Zero guided Rubrum to peace? Where would their place be?   
“We should check this festival out.” He said, breaking his silence and startling Jack, who sat up from the bed.

“You think so?”

“Yeah…” Eight stood up and gave one more glance out of the window. “Could be fun.”


	5. Of Horror and Harmony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some feels while I type the next few chapters.

In the first few days, King was too inexplicably exhausted to pay attention to anything other than the bed when they stopped to rest. While his sleep had not exactly been peaceful, with these dreams he’d been having, they hadn’t impeded his slumber thus far.  
It had been a few days since Arecia appeared before them. Since then, Jaelyn had been quiet. No, Jaelyn was always quiet, but these past few days she had been almost completely unresponsive. And King was starting to struggle with sleeping. Action had always been preferable to thinking for him, but in this situation all he could _do_ was think, stuck lying in one of the beds in the room, staring at the ceiling through the darkness.   
It was possible he was just starting to drift off, when he heard the whimpers.   
King frowned and sat up, looking over to the bed Jaelyn was in. There was a little light coming in from the window, just enough for him to see the iron grip in which she was holding the bed sheets. There was a moment where he thought she might be awake, but as he stood up and walked over, her eyes were closed, her body relaxed except for her hands and the pained expression on her face.   
Had this been going on the whole time? King had always been the first to fall asleep up until now, and the young woman opposite him had always been stoic. More stoic than even HE was, which was a feat in and of itself. As he settled back into bed and relaxed, he wondered what was going through her mind to haunt her so thoroughly.

Perhaps it was that very thought which brought upon his next dream.  
  
_His vision was blurred, but he forced himself to focus. The restraints were starting to cut into the skin of his wrists, and the pain made him stop moving. His head throbbed. Across from him, in the middle of the room, Jaelyn was slumped in the chair she was tied to. Where she had been for the past 24 hours. Was it 24 hours? He had no sense of time. Only the pain in his wrist and Jaelyn’s near nonexistent breathing._

_The door to the room swung open and an officer stomped in. Not the one who captured them, he had seemed appalled at how young they were. This man, he had no such sensibilities. It seemed he wasn’t finished yet._   
_“Have you decided to talk yet?”_   
_Silence. Jaelyn didn’t lift her head, she didn’t even twitch. The man in the Milites uniform did not seem pleased._   
_“What is your mission?”_ _  
Nothing._  
 _“Dammit girl, can you not speak!?” He stepped closer, bearing down on her. “Have I broken you already? Have you given up? It matters little… If you won’t speak then we can just kill you and I’ll get what I want from your friend.”_

_Silence. Clearly that was meant to get a rise out of her, but Jaelyn remained utterly still. From his position against the wall King couldn’t see her face, hidden by blood crusted indigo curls. With another growl of irritation the officer turned back towards the door, and that ended up being his big mistake._   
_With his weakened vision King barely saw her move as she leapt from the seat, pouncing upon the officer’s back with enough force to send him hurtling into the wall. He collapsed, and didn’t even manage to push himself onto his knees before she jumped onto him again brandishing a knife. The way they fell meant her body was blocking his view, but King could hear the muffled distress from the officer as she covered his mouth and brought the knife down on him. Four, five, six times, King stopped counting and instead looked down, not wanting to close his eyes but also not wanting to see the violent breakdown Jaelyn was releasing on their captor._   
_A clanging sound made him look back up, seeing her jump away from the body after dropping the knife. Then, slowly, she bent back down and fumbled with the officer’s belt, removing the keycards and the COMM. When she turned to him she seemed surprised he was looking back at her. Her approach was quick, but her hands were bloody and shaking as she started to work on freeing him._   
_“We…” Her voice cracked, hoarse and whimpering. “We’re going to get out of here. We’re going to be free.”_   


For the first time in his life, King woke up in a cold sweat. The visceral images that had plagued his sleep were fresh in his mind as he returned to reality with the blankets falling off the bed, and a sudden need to gasp for air. He checked his head, his wrists for injuries and found nothing, no stains of blood, his vision as crisp as always. He sat up and wiped his forehead, his hands just wouldn’t stop trembling.

He looked over to Jaelyn’s bed to find it empty, and in his state he panicked at her absence. He had to wilfully remind himself that they were in a hotel, they were _fine_ . They were _safe_ .   
The door opened and he looked up far too quickly. Jaelyn was already dressed, and holding two mugs.   
“Ahhh. you’re awake.” She wandered over. ”I have coffee.”   
He didn’t say anything as she wandered over and placed one of the mugs on the bedside table, only watched her. As she stepped back she caught his gaze and stopped.

“Are you alright?” She asked, looking down at him. Not by much, though, given how short she was King was still almost to her shoulders when he was sat down. His expression made Jaelyn frown, it was a rare expression to see on him. A flash of horror that stirred countless memories in her.  
She didn’t push him away when King pulled her to him, and he didn’t pull back when Jaelyn curled her fingers into his hair and held him close.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, it's short. Most of the parts will be like this, with occassionally longer, more chapeter-like installments. It all depends on what the focus is. Until the next part!


End file.
